Broken Love
by JWolf28
Summary: The Joker breaks Harley, but it's not as anyone expected. One-shot.


He'd done it. He'd broken her. It just took the right combination of words and pain. He'd given her the pain for the last four years and had used the time to find the words that would do the deed. And the previous night, he'd succeeded. She was taking a beating from him for something that went wrong on a heist- not even her fault- and he was screaming at her. He said that he'd never loved her; painful, but not unusual. But then he brought up her parents. Nick and Mannon Quinton had killed themselves when she was ten. As he beat her, he told her it was her fault. That she was so difficult to live with that even her parents killed themselves to get away from her.

Something in her mind snapped, then. A switch flipped and a new Harley Quinn was born. She didn't cry out for the rest of the beating. When he was done, she slowly rose- not even noticing the pain, really- and took a shower washing away all the grime. The Boss didn't like getting blood on the sheets or carpet. She internally vowed never to make him mad again. She would be perfect.

When she came into the room, she found almost him asleep on their bed. He'd obviously showered, but his knuckles were a mess, so she found their first aid kit and cleaned his hands before laying an ice pack over them. She made to walk away, but he called her back, sitting her on the edge of the bed before cleaning the various cuts on her body and applying a bruise cream to the already darkening patches of skin. Once he was satisfied, she took the kit back and cleaned up the broken items around the room.

By the time she was finished, she started to get into bed next to the sleeping Joker before hesitating. The Boss only tolerated having her in his bed at night; had told her so before. And while she liked being close to him after his beatings, she knew that he didn't. So she stepped away from the bed and sat on the fluffy carpet. She contemplated going to one of the empty rooms, but the Boss liked having her near. Just not _so_ close. So she laid down on the carpet and fell asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, the Boss was still asleep and she crept out of the room and got started on breakfast. While she usually liked to deviate from the recipes, she wanted to cook well and forwent her usual "Harley" spin on things. Once it was complete, she plated the food and brought it to their room. Knowing he flailed when he woke, she set the plate on the bedside table. "Boss?" She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Boss, wake up. Breakfast is ready."

He woke with a jolt, his hand flying out and cracking against her nose. As blood began to flow, she cupped her hands under had face, careful not to let a drop of the crimson reach the white carpet. She hurried to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, setting the broken bone and stopping the bleeding fairly quickly. When she went back out, the Boss was sitting up, sipping his coffee. He'd changed into one of his suits and his pajamas were on the floor, discarded the usual way. Seeing this, she immediately picked them up, gathering the rest of the laundry while she was at it. He frowned at her. "You're not eating with me?"

Harley froze. She considered grabbing a plate of her own, but her mind flashed to all the times he'd told her she was too fat. She simply offered a small smile. "No, Boss. I've been up for hours. Already ate. I was just going to get a head start on all the work that needs to be done."

He seemed a little put out, but nodded and let her go. The weeks continued like this. She did what he said, following his instructions to the letter, also starving herself until he stopped calling her fat. At night, she went to bed after him and woke up before him to make him breakfast. When she did eat, it was alone and little and she stopped calling him the pet names he'd always told her he hated. He was now firmly labeled Boss. For all the intimacy they had, she may as well be one of the henchmen. He hadn't beaten her in weeks, though, so she figured that she must be doing something right. She was a shadow of the person she had been, bit he wasn't hurting her anymore so it was okay.

After eight months of this, Joker took notice. Yes, he was a little slow on the uptake, but he _did_ care about his Harlequin and she wasn't acting herself. Hadn't for longer than he cared to admit. It scared him. She'd lost weight and those luscious curves he loved were gone, replaced by sharp, boney edges. As soon as he realized it was in reaction to his calling her fat, he stopped. When those curves remained missing, he set about bringing them back. It was then that he realized that he finally broke her. She didn't do anything without his permission, save for the housework, and those expressive brown eyes he loved were dead. No life in them whatsoever. Her annoying, yet endearing smile was gone and that high voice he both hated and loved was soft and barely heard.

At first, he reveled in it. She was finally perfect. He had her bending to his every whim. That, however, got old fast. He was used to a certain degree of rebellion from her; had learned to expect and appreciate it. But it was gone. That scared him more than anything else could.

He also learned to watch his words around her as she took his every word seriously. On one occasion, he'd found her munching on chocolate covered pretzels; what he knew to be her favorite snack. He never cared for them and the smell made him grimace. "Do you really think you should be eating that?"

She froze, the small smile that so rarely adorned her fact slipping off. "You're right, Boss." She stood immediately, tossing the bag in the trash before washing her hands and standing in the kitchen with her eyes cast to the floor. "Would you like something to eat, Boss?"

It seemed like her accent had died with her smile. There was no trace of the French dialect left and he remembered it being something else he had complained about. "No. Harls, you know you didn't have to throw them away. I know they make you happy."

"What makes you happy makes me happy, Boss."

He frowned. "Are you okay, Pumpkin? You don't… seem yourself."

The smile she gave was a pathetic imitation of her trademark grin. "I'm fine, Boss. Absolutely no problems."

"Okay… well, I'm going out. I doubt that I'll be back tonight at all. Don't wait up. Just let one of the boys know if you need anything. In fact, I'll send one out for you right now. What do you want?"

"Anything you want, Boss."

He sighed. "Well, you know, it's strange. I find myself craving chocolate covered pretzels. I'll send a henchman out for some."

A light danced in her eyes for a moment before dying and she nodded.

He left before the henchman came back and got home late that night, sporting a few bruises and a couple scrapes. Nothing big. He played with the idea of getting Harley to dress the few wounds he did have, but pushed it away. His pet hadn't been sleeping much. She went to sleep after him and rose far earlier. Seeing how he didn't sleep much, that was a problem. He entered their room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the bed was empty. Harley wasn't in it. Panic spread through his veins and he forced a calm façade as he moved to her side, hoping to find some indication of where she was. And he did.

She was curled up on the floor next to the bed. This made him pause before he leaned down and lifted her up, placing her on the mattress and tucking the covers in around her. It was then that he realized just how much of her he had destroyed. She wouldn't even sleep next to him. She loved sleeping next to him! She curled up to his side with her head on his chest and an arm flung over his stomach. He'd always waited until she was asleep and then pull her a little closer to wrap his arm around her. And then, in the mornings, he'd wake up before her and watch her sleep a while before getting up. It took him a moment to realize that he _missed_ that. It was a bit of a wakeup call for him.

Unfortunately, not a big enough wake up call. His temper was always something he couldn't keep a hold on and it cost him dearly just the next day when his beloved Harley screwed the pooch again.

.

.

.

Joker growled in annoyance, glaring at the woman in front of him. "Do you realize what you've done?!" He grabbed the coffee-soaked blueprints in front of him and lobbed them at her. "You've ruined all my plans!"

"I'm sorry, Boss! It was an accident!" She trembled under his gaze and he sneered. "If it wasn't such a waste of my time, I'd kill you! But you're not worth even that, you dizzy dame!"

She frowned at him with tear filled eyes. "Is that your way of saying you want me to do it?"

He cackled. "Why yes! If you could do the world a favor and go kill yourself, that would be fantastic!"

Harley took a breath and nodded. "Alright, then, Boss. I'll do it for you." She disappeared and he grumbled to himself for a few moments before he realized what he'd said and who he'd been talking to. In a rush of indescribable fear, he sped to the weapons room- the likely place she'd go to find a tool to carry out the deed- only to find a single gun gone. The first one he'd given her.

He started towards the bedroom before remembering how many times he'd gotten mad over the stained carpet and he knew that Harley would remember that. With that in mind, he changed direction to the roof. It would be the easiest place to clean and if it did stain, no one would be there to see it. He was almost there when he heard a gunshot and a thud. Panic induced adrenalin flooded his system and he found himself on the rooftop mere seconds later. His Harley was on her back, eyes closed and her chest barely moving. "NO!"

He raced to her side, lifting her up and into his arms. "Harley? Pumpkin?"

Blood was spreading across her chest, a darker red than her Harlequin suit. She gave a breathy sigh and opened her eyes. "B-Boss?"

He sniffled, tears falling unchecked down his pale cheeks. "No, Pumpkin. It's your babe. Your sweetheart, remember?"

She laughed shortly and breathlessly. "You hate being called that."

Joker shook his head. "Only outwardly. I've missed it, Pumpkin. I've missed you."

She frowned. "I thought you want me like this."

"You thought wrong, baby. I loved you like you were. I love you. You can't leave me."

"But you told me you wanted me dead. That I should kill myself."

"I didn't mean it! I don't want you to die!"

She sighed. "I think it's a little too late for that."

He nodded with a sniffle and held her until she breathed her last breath. And that was how Charley Quinton died. In his despair, Joker went on a rampage that ended with Batman's pet Robin dead. The Batman, in his anger, bashed Joker's teeth in and took him to Arkham

That was how he ended up in therapy in a strait jacket with metal teeth. "Now, Mr. Joker, can you tell me why you killed everyone in that woman's shelter."

"Why should those women live when mine couldn't?"

"Ah, yes. Charley Quinton. What happened to her? No one was ever told nor was she ever found."

Joker frowned, the scene running through his mind. "I killed her."

The doctor hummed and her voice sounded upset when she spoke next. "I'm going to be your doctor from now on. And I want you to know that I won't write off your care like everyone else has nor will I allow the abuse to continue. You're sick, but still human. I'm going to help you."

He looked up at her. Honey blonde hair and gentle blue eyes greeted him. "What's your name, doc?"

"Harleen Quinzel."

He grinned.

 **A/N: So, this wasn't what I planned on writing, but the story got away from me. If it's wanted, I could write a sequel, but this part of it is complete. Let me know what you think! This is my first time venturing into the Gotham side of the DC universe, so letting me know how I did would be great!**


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